


DIZZY

by orphan_account



Series: Barca [3]
Category: EastEnders
Genre: Chryed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-15
Updated: 2011-12-15
Packaged: 2017-10-27 09:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>...warmth of my lover, warmth of my love...</p>
            </blockquote>





	DIZZY

**Author's Note:**

> oops! I KNEW I'd written a third part! Final part of the Barca series, following Zig, Siempre

Christian was a 'morning' person. Syed was _learning_ to be. He'd never really slept with him this way before – all night, in his arms, no guilt causing jagged edges in the pattern of his sleep. He could see now why it was so important to Christian – having him there, all night, all morning. That had been the constant lament from him, one that had made Syed impatient, irritated because he simply _hadn't_ understood, but the fact is Christian was different – more leisurely, more relaxed knowing that he had Syed all to himself, that he didn't have to somehow make himself irresistible, the sex irresistible to keep him wanting to come back. Syed had made it clear by his very presence that he was there to stay. Christian, therefore, no longer had to fight anyone else for his affection or focus and it showed in the way he made love.

“You tired me out,” Syed complained, kissing him.

“How? I did all the work.” Christian was kissing each of his fingers, one by one...

“Well...” No it hadn't been the _physical_ exertion that had taken up all his energy: having Christian so focused on him, on giving him pleasure had made him weak, utterly sapped his strength, reminiscent of the way he'd look at him sometimes back in Walford, when he was walking down the street or serving behind the bar in the Vic, and feel weak with the rush of feelings that couldn't be expressed, that stopped his breath, caused a constriction in his throat, made his brain turn to mush. He'd understood (intellectually at least) the notion that love made you weak emotionally but until Christian hadn't truly understood that it was also a _physical_ thing: when Christian made love to him that night he had been _weak_ with love, completely undone by the reality of being desperately, desperately in love with this man.

And today, today he could simply enjoy that feeling, lean _into_ the feeling of possession and know that there was no-one to take it from him, that the only person who could do that now was _him_.

He used to believe that it was wrong to love so much, that love shouldn't be something you'd kill for, _die_ for, but knew now that that was because until he met Christian he had never truly been in love. Because loving that way _didn't_ make you weak, the way he'd secretly assumed it must, Christian was _strong_ , had the courage of his utter belief in the validity of his love for Syed and allowed Syed alone to turn him from that path – _because_ he loved him. He gave him that power because he loved him.

And it had taken Syed an age to _get_ it, to recognise that it took a huge amount of courage to _grant_ someone else that power.

The most courageous act _he'd_ ever undertaken was coming here, leaving it all behind, giving it all up and granting _Christian_ that power: allowing him to see just how much he was loved, to know that set against everything else in Syed's priorities he had come first.

He had been so unhappy without him – even for that brief span of time – already living an abbreviated half-life and all it had taken was a simple, simple question from Tamwar of all people to bring it all into stark relief.

Yet he did truly believe that he would have come to the same conclusion himself at some point, only it would, by then, have most likely been too late and Christian would have moved on, knowing as he surely must that the choice had been too long in the making and therefore had no real weight of conviction. Christian performed big, florid acts in pursuit of his love and while he didn't expect Syed to do the same, he expected something more than mere _feeling_ from him. Christian knew he loved him, had known it for a while, just couldn't be sure what that meant in the grand scheme of things in Syed's life.

Well now he knew.

“How about I make you a nice big breakfast?” he suggested, kissing him again. His stubble was nice, sexy, so he kissed him once more, lingering over his task.

“Well you can't offer me breakfast and do that! Not fair.” His voice was low, growly – awake but not completely alert, a state that Syed found just irresistible.

He rolled on top of him. “So, breakfast after I make it up to you?”

Christian's fingers scratched lightly up then down his spine. “Make what up?”

“Me just lying there last night.”

Christian laughed. “Oh that's regarded as a hardship? Well okay, knock yourself out then.”

“Any requests?”

“Yeah.” Both hands in his hair now.

“What?” Kissing him again.

When Christian whispered in his ear he laughed, shook his head, kissing him, and laughed again.


End file.
